


A Mere Interlude (Remix of The Madding Crowd)

by Fullmetalcarer



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Blow Jobs, Charles You Slut, Crack, Erik is Crushing Harder than a 12-year Old Girl, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, do not use the accessible restroom unless you have a disability you two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-21 04:31:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11349924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fullmetalcarer/pseuds/Fullmetalcarer
Summary: Charles meets a stranger, Erik, in a restaurant.  Things escalate rapidly, but fate seems determined to keep Charles and Erik from enjoying themselves and each other . . .





	A Mere Interlude (Remix of The Madding Crowd)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theapolis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theapolis/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [theapolis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theapolis/pseuds/theapolis) in the [xmen_remix_madness2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmen_remix_madness2017) collection. 



> Go read theapolis' fic instead - it's hotter than the sun ;)

Charles sat at the bar in the upscale restaurant, sipping his gin and tonic. Everything was crystal and marble and mahogany and gilding and slubbed silk and bowls of voluptuous roses. Charles was feeling pleasantly tipsy. He'd had perhaps one, or maybe two, or perhaps three too many drinks.

A tall, slim, handsome man sat down next to him. He had a decidedly exotic air, compounded by his red eyes. Not red as in he'd been suffering from insomnia, but red as in red. A fellow mutant.

"Bonjour, I hope this seat is not taken?"

He had a charming accent.

"Well, it's taken now, but it wasn't before you sat in it."

That had sounded a lot wittier in Charles' head.

"Ah, witty as well as beautiful. My name is Remy and yours, chéri?"

"Charles."

He held out his hand. Instead of shaking it, Remy kissed the backs of his fingers.

"Such a lovely name. How is it such a lovely man, with such a lovely name, is sitting alone?"

"Oh, someone gave me vouchers for this restaurant as a gift. I wasn't going to use them as I had no one to go with, then I thought, sod it, I'll go on my own."

Remy laughed. "Good for you, mon cher. But you are not alone now, that is if you don't disdain Remy's company?"

Charles smiled. "I don't disdain your company at all. Is your accent from New Orleans by any chance?"

"Mais oui. Have you ever been there?"

"No, but I'd love to."

They were enjoying an interesting conversation about New Orleans, when Remy's phone rang. He swiped the screen and held it to his ear.

"Bonjour? Bonjour? Bonjour? It rings, but there is no one there."

This happened three more times and in the end Remy switched the cell off. Shortly afterwards another man, a little shorter than Remy, but much more handsome - all long, lean muscle and classical features (Charles always thought that sounded like something a Georgian mansion would have) - sat down on the other side of Charles. He fixed Charles with grey-green eyes.

"So sorry I'm late, the traffic was awful."

"I . . . what?" said Charles.

The stranger turned to Remy.

"Thanks for keeping my boyfriend entertained, but if you don't mind, we'd like to be alone now."

"Hold on - " began Charles.

"Oh, Charles, you should have said that you'd been - What is the saying? - stood up. And see, it is not true after all, for who would "stood up" such a vision of brilliance and loveliness."

"Wait a minute - "

But it was too late, Remy was bowing to him and nodding to the unknown man and sweeping off.

Charles stared at the stranger in baffled fury.

"What an earth do you mean by pretending to be my boyfriend?"

"His approach was clichéd and hackneyed. All that fake French charm. Ridiculous. He deserved to have his phone melted, not just rung a few times."

"That was you?"

Charles was still angry, but also intrigued. Plus the stranger was drop dead gorgeous.

"Yes. I can manipulate magnetic fields and control metal."

"Fascinating."

Charles was always delighted to hear of a new mutation and he'd never encountered this one before.

"I'm a metallurgist, so it helps with the day job too. What do you do?"

"I'm a telepath and the headteacher at a school for mutants."

The man's sensual lips curved into a slight smirk.

"Hmm. You must have to be very respectable to run a school. All those impressionable young minds. All those judgemental parents. All those junior staff looking to you for leadership. You must have to suppress any unorthodox urges. Be bland, vanilla, all sweetness and light. No room for darkness. No room for sin."

Charles stared at him. It was as if the stranger was the telepath, not Charles.

"What's . . . what's your name?"

"Erik."

Erik held out his hand. Charles took it and shook, but when he tried to pull back, Erik kept hold and clasped Charles' fingers in both hands.

"I know your name's Charles. That clown used it. Don't you ever chafe at the bonds your responsible job places on you? Don't you ever yearn to break free? To do something bad, something wrong, something filthy?"

Charles felt as though he was being hypnotised.

"I . . . I . . . yes, sometimes I do."

Erik leaned closer. He disengaged one hand and put it on Charles' upper thigh. His hand was large and hot and felt as though it was burning a hole though Charles' pants' leg.

"And what would you do if you cut loose, Charles, hmm? Something dishonest? Something cruel? No, neither of those. I think you'd do something sexual."

He dug his fingers into Charles' thigh. Lust was coming off him in waves. Charles felt drunk on more than alcohol.

"Yes, something sexual," gasped Charles.

"Something like this," said Erik and slid his hand up to Charles' crotch, rubbing at his cock through his pants.

Charles pressed into the touch, then realised where they were. Fighting down intense arousal, he put his hand on top of Erik's and tried to pull it away. Erik was much stronger than him, his hand didn't budge. He kept rubbing and dragging his nails across the fabric.

"Erik," hissed Charles, "We're in public. Someone will see. We'll be thrown out, arrested."

"You're a telepath, make them not see."

Erik squeezed the hard length of Charles cock. Charles bit back a moan. Fuck it. He wanted this. He needed it. He cast his mind across the restaurant. Only one person had spotted anything, a woman at a nearby table. He could feel her shock and disgust. Charles sent a tendril of power in her direction.

Turn away. Forget.

It worked. Unfortunately his fine control was a bit shot from alcohol and lust. He sent her a burst of arousal too. The woman threw back her head and moaned à la "When Harry Met Sally". She plunged her hands between her legs and let out a sort of strangled scream. Her companion started hissing furiously at her. Everyone, including Erik and Charles, stared at her. Erik actually stopped groping him.

Mortified by what he'd done to the poor woman - though she seemed to be enjoying herself - Charles quickly tamped down her arousal and made everyone forget. They all calmly went back to eating and drinking. Charles leapt from his seat and sprinted for the bathroom. He could hear Erik calling his name. He ignored him.

He slammed and locked the bathroom door behind him. What the fuck had he been thinking? He splashed some cold water on his face. The lock on the door flicked up. Erik walked in.

"No, no, get out. You've already caused enough trouble. That poor woman. That was at least half your fault. Get out."

Erik boxed him in against the sink. God, his shoulders were broad and his waist! Surely it was impossible for an adult male to have a waist that narrow?

"It's alright, Charles, we're quite safe here. Look."

He gestured. The lock melted shut.

"No one can get in. There's just us. Just the two of us. Let me take you apart, Charles. Let me break you down. Destroy that carefully cultivated facade to reveal the real you. The filthy, dirty, little cock-slut we both know you really are."

He was grinding his hips against Charles' groin as he spoke. Charles was a bit drunk and incredibly aroused.

"Alright."

Erik grinned, fierce and feral. He undid Charles' zip with his powers, using it to tug down his pants. He hoisted Charles up onto the sink unit. He freed Charles' cock from his boxers and ducked down to take him in his mouth. Charles groaned and arched his neck, banging his head on the mirror.

Look at you, the respectable headmaster, getting his cock sucked by a stranger in a restaurant bathroom. What would they think of you if they could see you now, your students, their parents, the other teachers? They'd think you were a whore and they'd be right.

Yes, yes, I'm a whore for you, Erik.

Erik swirled his tongue around Charles' cock. He hollowed his cheeks and hummed. He pulled off with a slurp and licked and kissed and nibbled Charles' foreskin. He seemed fascinated by it. He flicked his tongue against Charles' frenulum. Then he took him down again and sucked almost painfully hard. He took hold of the base of Charles' cock with one hand and started to pump it and bob his head. Oh, God, the feel of his lightly calloused fingers. The wet warmth of his mouth. The demonic fucking sucking. Charles was so close.

He froze.

"Erik, stop, stop," he hissed.

Erik ignored him. Charles gave him a mental jab. Erik winced and pulled off. Spit and pre-come trailed down his chin.

"What the fuck?"

"There's someone outside, someone who needs the bathroom."

"Let them wait or use another restroom. This place must have more than one."

"They can't wait, they're desperate and they can't use another bathroom because they're a wheelchair user and this is the accessible bathroom."

Erik looked around for the first time. They'd both been so aroused and Charles had been so thrown by almost giving a complete stranger an unintended orgasm, that they hadn't noticed they were in the accessible restroom.

Erik scrambled to his feet. Charles clambered off the sink unit and shoved his aching cock into his pants. Erik unmelted the lock and flung the door open. Charles had just enough gumption to make Erik invisible. He could have made himself look like he had a disability, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. The woman in the wheelchair gave Charles a dirty look, which he richly deserved. Her thoughts were even more uncomplimetary. Charles was mortified.

"Let's get out of here," said Charles. "My place?"

"God, yes," replied Erik.

They made their way to the bar and Charles asked for the check. He leant on the bar. He was drunk, ashamed and three-quarters hard. A muscular body pressed up against him, torso to back, groin to buttocks. Erik started to grind against him. His cock felt massive.

Erik!

Hide us.

Charles concentrated fiercely on making everyone believe that Erik was standing innocently at his side. This time he managed it without any mishaps. Erik kept rutting against the fabric covered crack of Charles' arse. He gave a particularly hard thrust and Charles jerked forward and head-butted the barman. The barman staggered back, lost his grip on the cocktail shaker he'd been holding and hurled it into the air. It opened up and ice, mint, sliced limes and alcohol fountained out, splashing the barman, the bar and Charles. He licked his lips. Rum. Probably a mojito.

There was a moment's silence, then an absolute hubbub, then complete silence again. Everyone except Charles and Erik stood or sat frozen in mid movement.

"Is that you?" said Erik.

"Yes. I'll release them when we're gone. They won't know anything about it. The barman will get the blame for the mess, but I don't care because he's a truly horrible person."

Charles threw a couple of hundred bucks on the bar. He figured the restaurant was owed it.

They walked down the street in silence. Charles' stiffy was fading. He could feel Erik's arousal diminish too.

"Why didn't you stop it, the cocktail shaker? It was metal," said Charles.

"I, er, I wasn't exactly paying attention at the time."

Charles started laughing. Erik joined in. They laughed so hard they had to hold each other up. Charles felt quite weak. They looked at each other. God, he was lovely. Erik was thinking exactly the same thing about Charles.

"Taxi to my place? We should be safe there."

Erik nodded and smiled. His eyes crinkled quite beautifully.

They hailed a cab. As soon as Charles had given the driver his address, Erik hauled him onto his lap, so Charles was straddling his thighs and they were facing each other. Charles had been expecting some sort of move, so the driver went on happily listening to his music and chatting to the dispatcher, unaware that Charles was grinding on Erik's cock.

Erik took a firm hold of Charles' left buttock with one hand and undid Charles' shirt with the other. He kissed Charles' throat and nipped at his collarbones.

"You taste like a mojito," he whispered.

He dropped his head a little lower and gave Charles' nipples some attention. He sucked them to prominence and then bit down hard on the right hand one. Charles screamed and ground down viciously on Erik's prick.

Erik swore violently and the cab swerved violently.

The driver cursed and wrestled the car back into its lane.

"What the fuck? Sorry about that guys. No idea what the fuck that was."

He carried on apologising. They ignored him and sat very still, gazing at each other with wide eyes.

"Erik, was . . . was that you?"

Erik looked shamefaced.

"Yes. I haven't done anything like that for years. My control is usually great." He gave a dirty grin. "Must be what you're doing to me you filthy, little slut."

He moved in for a kiss. Charles pushed him away, clambered off his lap and slid along the seat until he was pressed up against the opposite door.

"Charles, it's OK, I've got it all under control, come back here," pleaded Erik.

"No! With our luck you'll crash the cab, the driver will be killed, I'll be paralysed and you'll be so overcome with guilt you'll go on a murderous rampage. I'll descend into alcoholism and drug abuse and you'll get locked up in a supermax."

"That seems oddly specific. Charles, come on, my lovely, lovely trollop."

Charles shook his head and crossed his arms and legs.

"No, I'm staying right here and if you come anywhere near me I'll make you think you're a kitten. Nothing until we get into my apartment. Not even any smooching in the elevator."

The journey seemed interminable. He could feel Erik's frustration. He was feeling pretty fucking frustrated too. Finally they arrived at Charles' apartment. Erik paid the driver. They raced inside. Charles had to keep pushing Erik away as they waited for the elevator. He kept him at arms length as they rode up to his floor.

As soon as they were in the door - Erik unlocked it with his powers - Erik pushed him up against the wall and attacked his mouth. They kissed until Charles' lips felt puffy and sensitive.

"Bedroom?" asked Erik.

Charles led the way. Erik threw him onto the bed and tore his clothes off. He paused to take in his pale skin and compact muscles and amber freckles.

"Beautiful," he said, drawing his fingertips across Charles' belly with aching tenderness.

He dragged his own clothes off and lowered himself onto Charles.

"You're the beautiful one," whispered Charles, caressing Erik's shoulders and back and tiny, tiny waist.

They kissed some more. Lots of spit and tongue sucking. They rubbed up against each other like a couple of teenaged boys, cocks damp with pre-come. They were both fully hard. Erik lovingly stroked Charles' cock.

"Such a lovely colour, such a rosy red and all for me."

Erik's prick was a reddish purple and as massive as it had felt through his pants.

"God, Erik, what have I done to deserve this?" muttered Charles.

He shimmied down the bed and took Erik in his mouth. He took all of Erik in his mouth.

"How the fuck - " sobbed Erik.

I can suppress my gag reflex.

He pulled off, kissed Erik's glans, then took him all the way down again, Erik's cock filling his throat, overwhelming and addictive. He tasted salty, with a touch of bitterness. Charles did it a dozen more times, then Erik pushed him off.

"Lube?" asked Erik.

"Top drawer, bedside cabinet," croaked Charles, voice scratchy from deep-throating.

Erik scrabbled madly for the lube and held it aloft with a triumphant shout. He flipped Charles over and ran his strong hands all over Charles' back and arse. He kissed his buttocks and he kissed his pucker.

"God, Charles, if the headmaster thing ever falls through, you could make a fortune as a high-class whore. Men would pay thousands for that mouth, that ass."

He gave "that ass" half a dozen sharp slaps. Charles screamed and rutted against the duvet. Erik rubbed lube on the soft skin of Charles' inner thighs.

"Clench your thighs together my darling whore."

Charles clenched. He felt Erik's huge cock slide between his legs. Erik thrust like a madman. Charles clenched even harder. Erik's sweat dripped onto his back. Erik's hands pressed his thighs together. His rock-hard cock rubbed the sensitive skin into over-sensitivity. Charles bucked his hips, driving back as Erik thrust forward and ramming forward to rub his neglected cock on the bed linen.

Erik must have picked up that thought because he reached under Charles and started stroking him. Charles jerked his hips. Erik rammed between his thighs and tugged on Charles' cock. Charles jetted come over Erik's fingers, his own belly and the unfortunate duvet. Erik spurted between Charles' thighs, hot and sticky.

They lay there for a long time, entwined physically and mentally. Eventually Erik got up, cleaned himself off in the bathroom and brought back a washcloth and towel to sort Charles out. Charles lay there like a lazy slug while Erik tended to him.

"Oi, watch it, Lehnsherr! I am not a slug of any description, lazy or otherwise."

Erik kissed his belly button.

"How about a sloth?"

"Hmm." Charles considered. "Yes, I think I can tolerate being likened to a sloth."

Erik lay down beside him - he'd already whipped the duvet off the bed - and cuddled him. Erik was an inveterate cuddler.

"Did you enjoy it?" asked Erik.

Charles snorted.

"I enjoyed the intercrural and I enjoyed parts of our extramural activities, but, oh dear, a lot of it was fairly disastrous."

"It was your idea, the role-play," pointed out Erik.

"I know, I know."

"We mustn't let out sex life become routine. We've been married six years now. We need to mix it up a bit. I fancy some role-play," mimicked Erik.

Charles slapped his husband's arm.

"Shut up, you sod. How could I possibly have anticipated it going so very, very wrong?"

Erik chuckled.

"I'll have what she's having," he quoted.

Charles shook his head.

"That poor woman. And, oh god, that unfortunate wheelchair user. I genuinely had no idea it was the accessible restroom. I feel so ashamed."

"My favourite bit was when you gave the barman a Glasgie kiss."

"What about when you almost crashed the cab?"

They gazed at each other, smiling.

"If you want to role-play again, I'll do it," said Erik, voice very soft. "I'd do anything for you, Charles."

And that's how they got caught up in a police sting; playing high-class escort and mafia boss client. It took a lot of effort by Charles' terrifying lawyers to get them out of that one.


End file.
